


Plan Bee

by thelilnan



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Blow Jobs, First Time, Flirting, M/M, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Teasing, Zeller is Bisexual, he also has a thing for older men, you cannot convince me otherwise
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-24
Updated: 2014-03-24
Packaged: 2018-01-16 20:33:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,196
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1360837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thelilnan/pseuds/thelilnan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“The drone is the perfect suicidal swordsman. When he mates with the queen, his ejaculation is so powerful, it’s audible to the human ear.”</p>
<p>What are you suggesting, Jimmy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Plan Bee

“The drone is the perfect suicidal swordsman. When he mates with the queen, his ejaculation is so powerful, it’s audible to the human ear.”

_Jesus_ , did Jimmy know how to be creepy. Not that Brian hated him for it or anything. Jimmy’s peculiarities were his best qualities; one of the reasons they worked so well together. You see a guy like Jimmy, just that side of middle age, medical examiner and a rumored war veteran (though Brian didn’t believe that), and think he’ll be one of those Baby Boomer grouches who prefer chalkboards to iPads. Of course, he wasn’t, as proven by him constantly alternating between Flappy Bird and Candy Crush in airport lobbies before flights across the northeast; also proven by his high score lording over Brian’s in just about every Facebook-related competitive game; even Farmville for Christ’s sake. Jimmy just wasn’t your typical... anything, and Brian loved that, but God _damn_ did it make his life awkward when Jimmy would start getting wise with him.

“Wise” was a code word for flirty and otherwise invasive. Again, it wasn’t like Brian hated it. He loved being able to flirt with someone in the workplace. Those little moments where Jimmy would make some vaguely sexual “threat” of a well-earned sleep and Brian would bat his eyes across the corpse between them and there would be, if the universe worked that way, a cued cut of an audience’s laughter, hoots and hollers, punctuated by an occasional “ooh!” But they have Beverley instead, who would roll her eyes at the boys and tell them to get a room. Another sexual promise from Jimmy. Brian cocks his shoulder like a saucy showgirl. More audience cooing.

So that was fine. Brian liked it. He loved the freedom to enjoy his palette of preference, even if Jimmy was just joking (Brian wasn’t sure if he was gay but he’s 54 and unmarried, so he drew private conclusions.) He’s always liked older men, after all; they’re the most fun to flirt with while girls... Of course, Brian liked them too. Why not? But being the instigator all the time was pretty exhausting and his job didn’t exactly leave him with enough energy to talk down a drunk girl into a make-out session in the bathroom as often as he’d like. Jimmy, by contrast, was low-maintenance and uncomplicated and though they didn’t make out in any bathroom or broom closet, it was about as effective as getting laid a couple times a month from the random bar girls or boys he might be picking up. So it was preferable, really.

But then again, Jimmy was evil.

Brian had a threshold for how much innuendo he could withstand before getting flustered and needing a minute to calm down. It was pathetic, really, but every so often he could be induced into a full-blown sputter fest just by a word, insinuation, maybe even a look. And Jimmy, damn him, knew just what to say. It was inevitable; working together for four years allowed them to learn each other’s sense of humor, preferences, and limits in workplace flirtation, and while Brian wasn’t quite bold enough to say what he was sure would leave Jimmy cotton-mouthed for a good five minutes, Jimmy _was_. And often did. And did so creatively.

As with the bee comment.

It was no accident he looked right at Brian when he mentioned that _explosive ejaculation_. Brian felt, in that moment, the hot rush of bile into his stomach and the inevitable reddening of his cheeks. Every inch of Jimmy’s posture, every micro-expression of his face, every word, sound, and syllable of his sentence all carried that same heavy innuendo.

_Wouldn’t you like that, Brian?_

At the time, Brian managed an uncomfortable, “Alright,” and turned away to the hive-occupied corpse, but now, in the morgue with that same body (though cleared of drones), he remembered it in a dub-step remix kind of way; blaring, loud, repetitive. He heard it over and over, alone with the corpse of Duncan Hallor, and stared into the eyeless sockets hiding a network of honeycombs.

“Hate to rain on your parade, but I think Hallor wins the staring contest by default,” Jimmy cut in suddenly, striding into the morgue and rounding Brian so sharply that the taller of the two nearly fell right on top of the corpse.

“I’m tenacious,” Brian excused and regained his balance, shooting a look at Jimmy.

“One can only hope.”

Jimmy hadn’t changed an iota of his typical attitude, which comforted Brian some, and infuriated him in other ways. It was one stupid bee-based comment, why was it bothering him so much? Maybe it was just too vivid for his pathetically fragile sensibilities. Maybe Jimmy was just a psychic ass. Whatever the case, Brian shook his head against it and tried to forget.

“... you bent over a table.”

Brian jerked his head up and goggled at Jimmy, washing his hands in the sink.

“What??”

“What’s got you bent over the table like that? Spot a clue? Maybe a lonely drone?”

Brian forced himself to breathe and cleared his throat, “No, no, just... spacey today.”

“You weren’t stung, were you?”

“What? No, why?”

“Sometimes people’s allergic reactions can manifest in neurological ways. It’s rare but,” Jimmy shrugged, “Wanted to make sure.”

“I’m not allergic to bees, so we’re good there.”

“I’m glad.”

“Glad,” Brian parroted for lack of any other response.

“Now I know it’s safe to poke you with _my_ stinger.”

_Jesus Christ_ , that was overt. Brian forced himself to laugh instead of defensive swearing but he knew he was already blushing. If he didn’t feel the heat wash over his face, radiating from his neck upwards, he could verify he was with the expression on Jimmy’s face. Smug didn’t even begin to describe it.

“Okay, calm down you horny apiarist,” Brian finally managed, slamming his hand on the autopsy table nervously, “Time and place.”

“My house, tonight,” Jimmy’s smirk got into panther territory with a sassy quirk of an eyebrow. Brian resisted the urge to piss himself and run and set his mouth in a line.

“Ha ha, right, with bells on.”

“Good idea, I think I still have a dog collar somewhere about the place.”

He _didn’t_ pee himself. But maybe he got a little hard. Brian closed his eyes for a minute.

“I thought we were on bee puns today.”

“I saw an opportunity. Collar’s optional, but the offer is very real, my young friend.”

Brian’s eyes snapped open at that and his thick eyebrows drew together. This was getting uncomfortably, thrillingly _real_ all of the sudden and by the look on Jimmy’s face, he was dead serious. Still, Brian instinctively asked, “Seriously??”

“Yeah, sure. You’re cute, I’m _adorable_ , and all this thinking about drone ejaculation gave me a couple ideas.”

“ _Excuse me_.”

“I’ll let it be a surprise,” he winked and Brian felt his knees get stupidly week, “But seriously. My house, 7, I’ll feed you up. Maybe even with food.”

Brian genuinely laughed then, even though he still felt like he was gonna pass out. But he agreed.

7:00.

—

Brian was being an asshole.

That wasn’t new.

But what was new, or generally uncommon, was how flustered he was getting about this stupid non-date with Jimmy. He didn’t think it was a date. Kind of a friend date. As much as Jimmy flirts, Brian seriously doubted he’d live up to any of the vague promises he’d made that day. Still, he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t excited for the possibility. He did genuinely find him attractive. Older guys just always had this effect on him. Put him in a room with a pretty girl his age or younger and he was Mr. Confidence. It helped that he was modestly handsome as well, he knew. Even pair him with a guy his age and Brian would at least feel on even ground, if not with the upper hand due to his natural height advantage. 

However, put in him a room with an older man and Brian was absolute goo. He’d nearly gotten written up countless times throughout high school by trying to hit on his teachers—a trend that thankfully died two years into undergrad, otherwise he might not be where he is today career-wise. He’d never even slept with someone significantly older than himself, just the idea... well.

At 6:55, Brian was in front of Jimmy’s condo door and thinking he should have brought a bouquet of flowers. The idea died as he attempted to knock, only to have the door swing open before his knuckles could make contact. Jimmy grinned.

“Well well, look at the eager beaver.”

“Bee puns,” Brian corrected him lamely, as if it would help.

“ _Bee_ -ver then. Come in,” he stepped aside and Brian trailed in, looking like a rescued dog home from the pound. The house smelled of mahogany and thyme underneath a fresher layer of pizza, which was sitting on the kitchen counter. Jimmy slipped past him to grab plates and serve him a slice of the oddly wide variety he managed to fabricate from two large pizzas.

“Didn’t know what kind you liked so I just got a couple different kinds.”

“I’m lactose intolerant.”

The way Jimmy’s face dropped almost made Brian’s entire day of humiliating flirtation worth it. He grinned instead and nudged him, “I’m kidding. Pepperoni.”

They sat on the couch and channel surfed for a while before ending up on some trash channel with some trash show about trashy people. That gave them ample ground to snark together and for a while, Brian completely forgot about his horrendously mortifying day and his prowling best friend. Half a pizza and two beers later, however, Brian was back to square one. Full and mildly buzzed, he was in no condition to leave just yet, and it seemed Jimmy was in similar states. Brian was just in the middle of comparing his food baby to Jimmy’s by way of exposing his belly when he caught the very interested look from his friend’s eye. His heart dropped into his stomach for just a moment, whatever words he was in the middle of saying dying instantly.

“You were saying, fatty?” Jimmy perched his cheek on his hand and gave Brian a thorough up-and-down which shouldn’t have been nearly as exciting as it was but Brian nearly moaned all the same. Thankfully, his throat was too dry to release that noise and it came out as a quiet choking sound instead. Hurriedly, he covered his stomach back up and tried to regain some ground.

“Nothing. I’m fat.”

“You certainly are. Gorging on too much honey, my fat worker bee?”

Great, back to bee puns. Or was that just word play.

Fuck, this is no time for Shakespeare. Jimmy’s hand is on his leg and—

Then they were kissing and it was hot and slow and Brian’s head was buzzing like, well Hollar’s, but because of beer and the thrill of not only his best friend kissing him but just how much older he was. Brian felt like a stupid teenager about how quickly he was turned on by all of this and tried to angle his hips away so Jimmy won’t notice. But then they’re horizontal on the couch and Jimmy had his legs around his hips and was pressing Brian down, down, _down_ into the couch with his kisses. Brian moaned, tightening his legs around Jimmy’s waist, and tried to get as close as possible.

When Jimmy pulled back, Brian had two hands up the front of his shirt, though he didn’t remember actually doing that. The resulting look of confused arousal was so adorable Jimmy had to kiss him again, deeply and briefly, before sitting back up.

“I also have a bed.”

“I didn’t know you were a millionaire,” Brian breathlessly quipped. Another kiss for cleverness and then Jimmy detangled himself from Brian’s long, long legs and stood. He wasn’t quite as excited as Brian was, but there was something there and Brian felt the relief of camaraderie.

“Bed, come on.”

Brian followed like the eager puppy he was.

As soon as they crossed the doorway, they were on each other again, hands grabbing at everything they could manage; clothes, skin, it didn’t matter. Brian was moaning like an idiot at the slightest touch but what could he say? It had been a while.

They were shirtless when they collapsed on the bed and Brian was underneath Jimmy yet again. He found he liked it down there. He liked it even more when his legs were around him, trapping him and keeping him close, but at the moment Jimmy was working on his jeans and had to sit back. Brian did the same for himself, kicking them off to the floor. Thankfully he wore his black boxer briefs that day and his embarrassingly eager tent was somewhat concealed. Jimmy knew it was there, of course, but Brian felt better not having it overtly delineated, like it might’ve been had he wore the white pair.

Visibly noticeable or not, Brian still bucked and gasped like a virgin when he felt Jimmy’s hand cover him.

“Very, very eager.”

“It’s been a while, okay!”

Jimmy clicked his tongue, fingers drifting over the head of Brian’s cock. He bit his lip and tensed, trying not to thrust again.

“And here I was flattered.”

“Shut up.”

“Not yet. I wanted to remind you of something.”

Brian exhaled pointedly and glared at him, “ _What_.”

“That famous of all, suicidal swordsman. You remember the drone bee?”

“Yeah, of course I remember.”

“You remember what I said about them?”

Brian furrowed his brow, trying to remember while Jimmy continued toying with him. It felt so _nice_ though...

“Their ejaculation is so explosive...”

“Yeah, you can hear it,” he squirmed, “Thanks for the bee facts. How do you even know that?”

“I know everything. And knowing this, I want to see if the same is for you, my worker bee.”

Then it clicked. Brian’s eyes shot open yet again, staring at Jimmy. He was grinning that leopard (panther?) grin again as he pulled off Brian’s underwear and pulled out of a drawer what Brian assumed to be lube and a condom.

“Y-you can’t hear ejaculation, Jimmy, that’s obvious.”

“No, but I’m wondering just how loud we can get you,” Jimmy poured a generous helping of lubricant into his hand and used it to slick Brian’s cock up, base to tip. He keened loudly then, arching his back into the grip, and Jimmy laughed victoriously, “Very loud, from the sounds of it! Maybe we’ll get the police called on us.”

“Maybe they’ll call Jack,” Brian wheezed, shaking, “Report a murder.”

“Oh and burry us both in H.R. forms. Very enticing.”

“I’m just saying,” and then he didn’t say anything for a while, just letting Jimmy do as he pleased with his lower half. It worked out spectacularly for Brian, especially when Jimmy pushed one, two fingers inside him and fingered him to a rhythm counter to his strokes. This was it, Brian had reached Nirvana. He switched off his brain and indulged himself in selfish wantonness.

“What a little princess you are,” Jimmy snarked not too much later in between bouts of moans, “Just letting me do all the work.”

“You’re welcome to use me however you want,” Brian weakly replied, feeling his body ramp up to climax. A slow build, just how he liked it. God, this had to be a dream.

“Don’t tempt me, Brian, that’s a very slick offer.”

“I’m serious,” Brian gasped, letting his legs fall open even more than they were, “God, I’m getting close, anything...”

Jimmy clicked his tongue yet again. Instead of saying anything, however, he upped his pace, stroking and fingering him faster and harder than before. Brian convulsed, choking, head going back. He was so close...!

“I’m gonna-!” Oh, oh, he was right there, just a bit more–

Then Jimmy pulled back and Brian very quickly lost his purchase on climax. He propped up on his elbows and demanded reasoning, despite still being bright-eyed and disheveled.

“What the hell, Jimmy!”

“Would you calm down? It’s all a part of the experiment’s design...”

“This experiment role play is quickly wearing itself out on the ‘cute’ factor,” Brian grumbled, falling back onto the bed. Jimmy just resumed his previous rhythm of pleasuring him and Brian soon found he didn’t care about the experiment, or bees, or Jimmy’s stupid smugness. He propped his legs up on the older man’s shoulders and let him work, eventually building to another climax. Just as he’s about to signal he’s close, Jimmy, again slows his rhythm to a crawl.

“Fuck!” Brian whines, “Come on!”

“Keep that up,” Jimmy warned as he pushed another finger in (Brian groaned indulgently at the feeling), “And you _won’t_ finish.”

“Please, Jimmy, I’m dying...” Brian tried reasoning with him and hitting him with the puppy eyes he knew Jimmy had a soft spot for. It seemed to work. Instead of sass, Jimmy slid down and actually took him into his mouth for a long, slow suck. Brian groaned then like he was dying, and thus Jimmy began the teasing rhythm of building and denial all over again. Within moments, Brian was squirming, legs over Jimmy’s shoulders, and getting close to the end once again. He was panting, shaking, and clawing at everything he could as Jimmy sucked, licked, and fingered him within and inch of his life.

“O-oh,” Brian mewled, “Oh, I’m close!”

Jimmy hummed, bobbing his head faster, fingers focusing on his prostate. Brian’s breath hitched, choking slightly before Jimmy slowed, pulling Brian further from climax. He wailed quietly, shaking. And it went on and on, back and forth between climax and plateau, until Brian was about to cry.

“Please!” He wailed for the fortieth or fiftieth time. Yet again, Jimmy pressed in the right spots and licked him _just right_ and Brian felt it build yet again. He kept shouting pleas throughout, to make sure Jimmy wouldn’t tease him again, and Jimmy just got rougher and messier in his pleasuring. Brian’s entire body tensed and he moaned, wailed, and groaned as he finally orgasmed, shaking uncontrollably. It went on for what felt like forever until he was wheezing and half-dead, covered in a light sweat. Jimmy gracefully swallowed and pulled back, stumbling off the bed to get towels. Brian, for his part, imitated a dead starfish on the bed and did an amazing job of it.

Jimmy returned and cleaned them and what he could of the bed before flopping beside Brian and curling up to him.

“Test successful, I think.”

“I think you’re an ass,” Brian’s throat actually hurt to use. Probably from extensive pleading but also from what he assumed to be shouting out his orgasm. He didn’t really remember. It all went sort of white.

“Well, either way, I’d say it worked out.”

“Whatever,” Brian yawned quietly and curled toward Jimmy, face in his chest.

“But you know the thing about theories.”

“Mm.”

“They have to be tested extensively.”

Brian’s eyes shot open.

 

End.


End file.
